Post by Bobbi on Oct 4, 2016 22:04:52 GMT -5
The door opened, cutting into the darkness of that solitary room with a fierceness that immediately drew his attention. He looked on with nothing but fear as someone entered and the door shut behind them.
Beneath him, the floor was solid, warmed from the heat of his own body, moist still from the sweat that drenched his clothing. “No. No, not again! Please!”
There was only one way to make it stop. They both knew this. It was all up to him.
It was a blessing, and a curse. It was everything and nothing in between, and it had been taken from him. It had been locked away behind a wall that he could not get past. It mattered so very little how hard he tried, or what he did. The wall remained in place. The screams of the dying, the wails of agony, and he was not able to breach that space to help. His fingers were bloody, dirt covered and torn to shreds and he continued to rake himself against the stone wall that kept him from them. All of them. It was too high to climb, but he forever pushed himself upwards. They were dying, every last one, and he could not get to the top. It was his fault. It was all his fault. They needed him and he was not there, he couldn’t be there to help. He couldn’t reach the top.
The smell, it was of rotting flesh. It hung heavy in the air, and beneath it were those screams. How could he not be able to help them?! Up he climbed, and still no closer to the top he got. He wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t make it. They were going to suffer and die, and he was ….falling.
There was hope. He could help them. He could. There were people who could help him get to them, just needed to ask for their help. He needed to….
It was not the right thing to do. It was not what he needed to do. He had to hold on, he had to hang onto that wall and that hope that he could reach the top. But his arms were tired. His hands, they ached. His legs would not support his weight against the wall much longer. Eventually, he would fall. He would need someone there to catch him. He would need someone to wrap those wounds, and help soothe his aching body. The fight was a long one, and there was an end in sight. He could rest. He could have respite. He just needed to ask for it. He just needed to let them help him.
She was a merciful woman, and she loved all her children. To see them suffer was to suffer herself. How could he not understand this? Just by allowing her into his life he could be saved from the pain and torment. By accepting her, he was accepting his place within their family. A family that would help him climb that wall, and get to those on the other side. He just needed to….
Nothing. Always right up to the brink, and then nothing. The screams he had heard were his own, they belonged to no one else.
Left once more to that darkness, the solitude within that room, he curled himself up against the floor with his forehead buried against his knees, his arms wrapped as tightly around himself as he could manage with the inhibitors in place. She left him there, shaking, shivering, weeping at the profound sense of hopelessness that had been instilled.
Everything was behind that wall. Everything he wanted was behind that wall. And he continued to try to climb it the hard way. He would lose his footing. He would fall. When he did, she would be there to catch him. Melandra was waiting, the patient woman she was.
The Jedi Temple was no more. The Shadow Academy was home. The Asylum was running at top proficiency. Eventually, they would all learn just what it meant to know Mother’s love.
Beneath him, the floor was solid, warmed from the heat of his own body, moist still from the sweat that drenched his clothing. “No. No, not again! Please!”
There was only one way to make it stop. They both knew this. It was all up to him.
It was a blessing, and a curse. It was everything and nothing in between, and it had been taken from him. It had been locked away behind a wall that he could not get past. It mattered so very little how hard he tried, or what he did. The wall remained in place. The screams of the dying, the wails of agony, and he was not able to breach that space to help. His fingers were bloody, dirt covered and torn to shreds and he continued to rake himself against the stone wall that kept him from them. All of them. It was too high to climb, but he forever pushed himself upwards. They were dying, every last one, and he could not get to the top. It was his fault. It was all his fault. They needed him and he was not there, he couldn’t be there to help. He couldn’t reach the top.
The smell, it was of rotting flesh. It hung heavy in the air, and beneath it were those screams. How could he not be able to help them?! Up he climbed, and still no closer to the top he got. He wasn’t good enough. He couldn’t make it. They were going to suffer and die, and he was ….falling.
There was hope. He could help them. He could. There were people who could help him get to them, just needed to ask for their help. He needed to….
It was not the right thing to do. It was not what he needed to do. He had to hold on, he had to hang onto that wall and that hope that he could reach the top. But his arms were tired. His hands, they ached. His legs would not support his weight against the wall much longer. Eventually, he would fall. He would need someone there to catch him. He would need someone to wrap those wounds, and help soothe his aching body. The fight was a long one, and there was an end in sight. He could rest. He could have respite. He just needed to ask for it. He just needed to let them help him.
She was a merciful woman, and she loved all her children. To see them suffer was to suffer herself. How could he not understand this? Just by allowing her into his life he could be saved from the pain and torment. By accepting her, he was accepting his place within their family. A family that would help him climb that wall, and get to those on the other side. He just needed to….
Nothing. Always right up to the brink, and then nothing. The screams he had heard were his own, they belonged to no one else.
Left once more to that darkness, the solitude within that room, he curled himself up against the floor with his forehead buried against his knees, his arms wrapped as tightly around himself as he could manage with the inhibitors in place. She left him there, shaking, shivering, weeping at the profound sense of hopelessness that had been instilled.
Everything was behind that wall. Everything he wanted was behind that wall. And he continued to try to climb it the hard way. He would lose his footing. He would fall. When he did, she would be there to catch him. Melandra was waiting, the patient woman she was.
The Jedi Temple was no more. The Shadow Academy was home. The Asylum was running at top proficiency. Eventually, they would all learn just what it meant to know Mother’s love.
